


Good

by smolder



Series: Nostalgia [6]
Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolder/pseuds/smolder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It burns her. But it is the good sort of hurt."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Kim Possible is owned by Disney.
> 
> The prompt given was: Kim/Shego - Sometimes it was good to just be bad. Bondage, biting, as rough as it can be.

"Good girl, Kimmy," Shego whispers against the skin of her wrist as she snaps the handcuff in place, securing her to the chain link fence that encircles one of the evil lairs long abandoned from many missions ago. She nips the sensitive skin there as well for good measure, hard enough to leave a clear mark of her teeth across the pressure point when she releases it.

 

A mark that she laves slowly – _ever so slowly_ \- while keeping sharp, watchful eye contact. Pink tongue sliding from between those full black lips to trace the fresh indentations in her skin.

 

Kim shivers. Shego smirks.

 

She could get out of these handcuffs. It would be easy. They both are well aware that the restraints are more for show than anything else, a sign of Kim Possible the Hero's submission to Shego the Villianess. But she also doesn't deny the fact that she likes it - the stretch of her arms above her head, the feel of metal around her wrist. That the more they do this, just hearing _the click_ of the handcuffs snapping into place makes her have to squeeze her thighs together.

 

Without warning, Shego runs her nails across her exposed stomach. A sharp downward motion that has all the breath leaving her lungs, followed by a soft, almost barely there, caress back up her torso with the flats of her hands that smoothly slides up under her black shirt.

 

All the while electric green eyes tracks Kim's reactions. And they are electric; filled with banked energy. Those very hands dancing along her covered breast contain the power she has seen (more times than she can count) flare while fighting her. She is almost very literally playing with fire here and the thought makes her pant.

 

Because she needs this. This release. And isn't sure if she would ever be able to ask for it. Would know _how_. Would ever feel comfortable doing so. How could she? How could she ever ask anyone to be like this with her? They wouldn't understand it. It just didn't fit with their ideas of Kim Possible. After all why would a hero want to give up control, why would a good girl like a little pain sometimes?

 

How could she ruin their perfect picture of her? Smash that spotless marble statue of a heroine up on a pedestal they had?

 

Shego never held that expectation of her (Kim's not sure if she ever had _any_ – she's always seemed to be assessing), she always mocked it instead. After all, she _knew_. She had once been a teenage crime fighter too.

 

With a sound of frustration the other woman shoves both Kim's shirt and bra up over her breast, exposing them to the chill night air. Shego then roughly pulls off her utility belt, causing her whole body, except for her trapped hands, to arch foreword along with the pull on her hips only to crash back with a loud clanging noise that seems to travels all through the chain link fence when the belt is pulled free.

 

Shego raises an eyebrow at Kim's unusual lack of coordination but really she isn't trying to. She likes this rough treatment, likes just letting go and not fighting back for once. Slowly there is realization and another smirk travels across Shego's face as she casually drops the utility belt into the grass. And there is only the first thought of the cleanliness of this outdoor meeting of theirs in Kim's head, once her pants and underwear hit the ground too and her naked ass is against cool metal.

 

Cold and probably _extremely dirty_ metal.

 

But then Shego has backed away from her slightly and teasingly curled her hand around the button at her throat. Then really who cares anymore because – _fuck_. She is wide eyed and spellbound again. And this has to be their dozenth or so rendezvous but it's as absolutely mesmerizing as the first time – as she's pretty sure it would be _anytime_ \- she's watched Shego undress.

 

God, how could it _not_. All black and green spandex sliding off of pale pale skin under the half light of a crescent moon. And Shego is so far from unaware of her own appeal it would take a crazy person to call her innocent. Shego _revels_ in the way that this is just another form of control.

 

And Kim does too.

 

Shego walks back towards her, full breast swaying in time with her body and hips moving in ways she has only ever known Shego's hips to move. Kim is so distracted that the woman is upon her faster than she was expecting – pushing her roughly against the fence - it clangs nosily again, shaking and giving a bit with their combined weight against it, but she only notices it distantly, she's too over stimulated by the body pinning her so hard she is sure she will have a pattern of the metal framework tattooed into her back and ass. And Kim wimpers because fuck – yes.

 

"Yes," she breathes.

 

Shego smiles at her (so close) and leans even closer to whisper huskily in her ear, "Such a good girl, Kimmy." And just like early she bites down, marking the area she said those words. And Kim can't help the way she makes a needy whining sound in the back of her throat, shifts her hips forward.

 

Shego chuckles and grabs her hip in a punishing grip forcing her back against the fence again. She braces herself, one hand by Kim's head, finger's intertwined in the metal and repositioning their legs, one of her thighs between Kim's. And although Kim wants desperately to (is actually trembling, holding back the urge to) start simply grinding herself on Shego she knows she has to wait, that this is part of the whole game too, and she hasn't been given permission yet.

 

But Shego seems to be waiting for something too. Her smile is teasing when she leans forward so their foreheads touch, their breast touch, and her thick black hair falls over Kim's shoulder.

 

"Now what do we say, Princess?" she reaches up and runs her nails down Kim's prone arm.

 

Her, "Please," is more of a moan. But it seems to be good enough for Shego.

 

And damn. Shego knows how to work her body _so well_. Was able to use her mouth, her teeth, her hand, her nails - the simple teasing pressure of the curves of her body against her own. Could get her mewling shamelessly, wildly, recklessly. So reckless that time and time again she would agree to come to places such as these - outside and priory owned by evil geniuses - and give herself over to a person who she fought any other day of the week.

 

So reckless that in these moments she really believed she could do anything. ( _No matter how good. No matter how bad._ )

 

Could bring her so close.

 

So. Very. Close.

 

"More, Shego," she moaned. " _Please_."

 

The hand curled within the wires next to her head ignited, the green glow startlingly bright in the darkness. Shego drew her hand downward – parallel to Kim's body - melting metal in her wake. She could feel the heat of it travel through, warming the metal at her back.

 

Kim saw all of this out of the corner of her eye, Shego never broke eye contact with her, never stopped the steady rhythm of the other hand inside of her. (The other hand the held that same destructive power at all times.)

 

But it was definitely there – definitely the more her body wanted. _Needed._

 

" _Shego_ ," she gives a final strangled gasp as her orgasm hits her. As if on cue, the green fire shut off.

 

***

 

By the time she has blinked the spots from her eyes and readjusted to the darkness, Shego is gone. When she shifts she feels a coldness in the scrunched up fabric of her bra over her chest. It is short work to fish the key left for her out with her teeth and flip it up to her hands – she is Kim Possible after all.

 

Soon enough she is dressed and rubbing her arms, enjoying the pins and needles feeling, as she looks at the hole Shego created in the fence with her powers that still has the faintest reddish-glow coming from it. Her eyes catch on a single droplet of metal and she can't resist the temptation to reach out and touch it.

 

It burns her.

 

But it is the good sort of hurt.


End file.
